


Gingerbread Castle

by new_kate



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-30
Updated: 2010-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-11 08:51:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/new_kate/pseuds/new_kate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternative timeline in which Gojyo isn't the one who finds wounded Gonou in the woods</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  
_Prologue_

Walking was a torture, rhythmical and controlled, comforting. He took step after step, making bursts of agony blossom from inside, wash over him and obliterate all thought. It was safe while he drifted over the edges of his own mind, clear of the consuming fires within, and he was strong enough to prolong this for as long as it took to get to the place of rest he knew waited for him. He felt himself closing in, shrinking into a bright dot on a spiral. He kept walking, clutching his fluttering life with both hands, pressing it back as it wanted to spill out and tear him to pieces. No thoughts, just pure instinct of a dying animal trying to reach the sanctuary, soul memory charting his course, body memory keeping him moving like a clockwork toy with broken springs.

So close now.

His foot twisted on a rotting tree trunk and he slipped in the mud and fell, losing the momentum. He forced air in and out of his lungs, clawed at the dirt, willing himself to get up, but his limbs wouldn't remember how. The silence of the rain-drenched forest crashed around him, suffocating and empty.

So close.

Primal fear hit him for the first time in months, a flash of the self-preservation instinct he almost forgot he had. He was dying alone, and as much as he deserved that…

There were soft, muffled sounds of steps approaching, feet sliding in the slush, and he let himself hope, selfishly, stupidly. He opened his eyes, intently peering thought the dim fog, and saw long beige robes, a delicate pretty face, hair golden even when soaking wet, crimson mark proudly displayed between childishly round eyebrows. The disappointment he could not explain flooded his chest, and he moaned out loud. The stranger knelt before him, staining wet robes with mud and filth, tilted his head and blinked like a curious bird.

"Hey, Mister, are you dying?"

He was too weak to great the young man appropriately, but he did manage a polite smile.

*-*-*

_One year later_

Usually, if Sha Gojyo woke up in an unfamiliar bed with a pounding headache it just meant he'd drank way too much the night before, enough to pass out after hopefully mind-blowing sex with an undoubtedly charming woman he picked up at the bar. That was a little awkward, since it meant she'd expect him to make conversation and remember her name when she wakes up, but not too bad in itself. Only this clearly wasn't one of those times.

He'd been lying awake for what felt like hours before he gathered enough courage to use his voice.

"Hello?" he called out. It sounded shaky and pathetic, pretty much the way he felt. "Hello, anybody there?"

He strained to lift his head, but couldn't see much more than before. The room was still dark. The huge toy clown sprawled on a chair by the door was still staring at him with those stupid button-eyes. When Gojyo woke up, first glimpse of that damn doll nearly made him scream from the shock.

Now that his eyes were used to the dark he could see more details. Heavy drapes on the wall, probably concealing a window. A volley ball and a toy train under that single chair. A teddy bear nailed to the wall with a dagger through its chubby neck. It was deadly quiet, no sounds from the outside, be it town buzz or woodland noises. From time to time he could almost catch disjointed echoes of tinny carnival music somewhere at a distance, but that could've just been his imagination.

He dropped his head back on the pillow, surrendering to a dizzy spell that probably had something to do with that throbbing bump on the back of his head. At least the bed was nice, big and soft. It smelled too strongly of lavender, and the heavily embroidered pillow covers weren't all that pleasant against his neck and cheeks, but he could've been comfy here. If only he knew where he was and how he got here, and especially if he wasn't tied to the fucking bed spread-eagled. At least he still had all his clothes on, thankyoudeargod, only his boots were gone, and the ropes weren't too tight, or he would've lost the feeling in all his limbs by now. As it was he could hope he'd still have the strength to fight when whoever strung him up like this came back to do whatever it was he had in mind.

He couldn't see the ropes around his wrists and ankles, but they felt weird, bumpy and knotted. They dug strangely deep into his skin, pressed against the bones and hurt an awful lot, but that was nothing. The real problem was - he couldn't cut them. As soon as he came to he called a shakujyo into his numb palm and tried to angle the long shaft to slice himself free, but the blade kept slipping off the ropes uselessly. He tried pressing harder, sawing at his bonds patiently, attacked different parts of the ropes, but felt no give under the blade, no change in the hard, slippery surface. In the end, fumbling the weapon awkwardly, he nearly drove the crescent blade into his own wrist, and bleeding to death on this bed wasn't on his list of preferred ways to die. He gave up, dispelled the shakujyo and settled down to wait, trying to pay no attention to the chafing of the ropes, the ache in his strained joints and the pounding in his head. The cloying smell of cotton candy was seeping into the room from outside, making him hungry and nauseous.

But nothing was happening, nothing at all. At first Gojyo was hoping that the kidnapping psycho would just forget all about him. But now that the dashing escape wasn't likely the idea of being left here to rot with that clown doll watching scared him shitless.

"Hello?" he tried again. "Hey, if you…"

A face appeared overhead, filling his whole field of vision, and words stuck in his throat.

"Hi Mister," sing-songed a clear high voice. "You're so stubborn. I'd come talk to you earlier if you asked nicely, you know."

"Who are you?" Gojyo asked, trying not to shiver. The guy was young, sweetly smiling, dressed in robes like a monk, and all that should've been comforting, but wasn't.

"You've been naughty," the man said gravely. "You tried to stop me from catching bad people."

"What?"

Last thing Gojyo remembered before this freaky room was… oh fuck. Yeah. That huge black thing tearing into a bar and jumping his mark. He pulled the man free of the claws, screamed for everybody to get out and cut into the monster's thick hide with his shakujyo. Not that he though that'd kill it, but he needed to give the girls and the drunks time to get their assess out of trouble. And then –

"He was a bad, bad man. And because of you, he almost got away. I think you should be punished."

"Who are you, man? What's your name?" Gojyo pleaded, forcing a meek smile. If he could talk this weirdo into cutting him loose, he'd take him for sure. He could play nice if he had to…

"I'm your god now," declared the blond. "I think you can be my new favourite toy. We'll play later and see! For now, be good and keep quiet, or I'll be very cross."

He slithered off the bed and soundlessly moved to the doorway, and Gojyo flinched so hard the ropes cut deep into his skin. There was someone else there, leaning on the doorpost, watching him silently with mutely glowing green eyes.

"Do you like what I've found?" the blond asked him. "He's so pretty!"

The man nodded. Gojyo swallowed, pulling on the ropes, but he couldn't move more than an inch in any direction. Could only lie still and smile bravely, pretending he wasn't spread there helpless like butterfly on a cobweb. The blond giggled and skipped away. The other one stayed.

"Hey," Gojyo said. "Hi. So, my name's Sha Gojyo. Could you just, maybe, untie me?"

The man didn't move, didn't even blink.

"He's a weird little guy, huh?" Gojyo tried. "A little creepy, but cute. Not really all there, looks like…"

"He's just a spoiled kid," the man shrugged. "If there is a madman in this castle, that would probably be me."

He slowly turned and walked away, stepping softly. Gojyo closed his eyes and breathed in deep, fighting the panic. It was all going to turn out fine in the end. Somehow.

*-*-*

There was nothing to do to but rest and save his strengths. Gojyo put all his will into trying to fall asleep again and had just managed to dose off when a warm heavy weight dropped on his stomach, making him scream and try to buck it off. The blond giggled and squeezed Gojyo's sides with his knees.

"What is it? Wanna play rodeo? I was planning something else, but if you insist…"

"Get off me," Gojyo hissed. The man was completely naked under his robes, and he was straddling him right where Gojyo's tank top was riding up, touching skin to naked skin.

"Say 'Please, Kami-sama, get off me'," the blond demanded, rhythmically rocking on top of him.

"Yes, whatever, please with sugar on. Look, just get off me and untie me and I promise, no hard feelings, I'll leave and you'll never…"

"But I don't want you to leave," pouted the blond.

"Okay, I'll stay. Did you want to play? We'll play, anything you like. Just untie me. I need to take a leak. Like, right now. You don't want me to wet your bed, do you? It'll stink."

"Ask nicely."

"Please, untie me."

"Say 'Please, Kami-sama'," insisted the man.

"Please, Kami-sama," Gojyo echoed dumbly. That was easily the weirdest prayer he'd ever said. "Untie me and let me go to the bathroom."

The blond hopped off him, pulled a short sceptre from somewhere and twirled it about. The harsh pressure on Gojyo's wrists and naked ankles was gone, replaced by pain when blood rushed back. For the next minute he was busy holding back moans and fighting the urge to curl up into a ball and pass out. He didn't even make note of how exactly that freak cut all the ropes at once. Or where'd he gotten all those strings of red beads he was suddenly draped in.

Gojyo slid off the bed, unsteady on his numb legs. The blond pushed back the curtain, revealing not a window, as he hoped, but a tiny en-suite bathroom. It didn't have any windows either.

"How convenient," Gojyo said, limping inside. "No door, eh?"

"I won't peek, promise. I had to take the door down because some guests kept hiding from me in there. So rude! Hurry up, okay?"

Gojyo pulled the curtain over the doorway, and took the longest piss of his life. Then he stuck his head under the faucet and drank as much tepid, rust-smelling tap water as would fit in his stomach. He was still hungry and dizzy, but quenching his thirst made him feel strong again. Slowly, quietly he began to work his frozen muscles and tense joints, loosening, stretching and warming up for a fight. The blond was small and looked frail, but he moved fast, and Gojyo made it a point to never underestimate his opponents. He'd seen what happened to people who underestimated Sha Gojyo.

When he came back out the blond was sat on the empty bed, juggling the sceptre and two tennis balls in the air.

"So, Mister, ready to play?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the flying objects.

"Sure," Gojyo said, calling the shakujou forth so fast the rush of yourekou nearly skinned his palm. "Tag – you're it!"

The blade swung down, slicing perfectly through the guy's thin neck, and the blood burst out, covering everything, large droplets scattering around like heavy, shiny beads.

"Too slow!" someone laughed behind Gojyo's back, and before he could turn something hit him, hard, stinging, in many places at once. The pain was so piercing he stumbled forward, right into the… Only…

There was no corpse. There was no blood. Just beads, damn red beads everywhere. He twirled around, ignoring the flaring pain in his back, blade at the ready, and faced the laughing blond who looked unscathed, not a single scratch.

"More?" he asked, raising the sceptre.

This time Gojyo ducked some of the beads, maybe five out of twenty. They were too many and too fast, and they hurt so much sinking into his flesh he couldn't even tell how deep they were going. He attacked again, and the guy's amused face crumpled into beads right before his eyes. But at least this time he threw himself down on the floor just in time to avoid most of the blast from behind when the blond materialised there again, hopping in place and squealing with delight.

"You are so cool! Let's go again! I knew you'd be the best to play with!"

"Fuck this," Gojyo moaned, pushing off the floor. Blood squirted out of his wounds and hit the bare stone with a splash. "Play with yourself, sicko."

He let the shakujou dispel and darted out, through the door, down the narrow corridor. The blond moved almost soundlessly, but the beads whistled tearing through in the air, so with the distance he was putting between them he could duck the shots in time. Gojyo got to the corner relatively cheaply, even though his throat started filling up with blood and he couldn't quite get enough breath. He swallowed and swallowed and sped up even more. He turned at random, led by the instinct, and ran with all he had, the way he'd run from thrown stones as a kid, the way he ran from the dogs they set on him at the town he lived in a couple of years back. He was much better at fighting now, but he never forgot how to run.

He reached the top of the wide winding staircase and bounded down, trying not to slip on the white marble steps. The angry screams from above seemed to mean that he guessed right and this was the way to freedom. Gojyo allowed himself a smirk, jumping several steps at once, and that's when the blond finally went for his knees.

His kneecaps exploded in a burst of pain and blood, and his legs just gave up, heavy and useless. He crashed down, hitting at least two dozen steps on the way, and ended up splayed between two flights of the stairs. He thought about crawling to the edge and trying to at least roll down another flight, but he had no strength left. One of his shoulders was shot through as well, and every time he tried to move that arm his vision blanked from the pain. Even breathing was too much to take. Maybe it was his broken ribs cutting his insides on every inhale, maybe his lungs were just full of prayer beads. He couldn't tell, and he no longer truly cared.

It had to happen sometimes, it might as well be like this, he thought, and closed his eyes.

*-*-*  
"Fix him, fix him, fix him!"

Gojyo flinched as the voices approached, but thought better of trying to fight. He pressed against the floor and continued to play dead.

"Oh my. Look what you've done. I don't know if I can mend all this."

"Please, please, Hakkai! I didn't mean to – it was fun, he was so tough and strong, and then… Please, fix him."

Someone – that other guy – crouched next to him. Gojyo tensed, bracing for fingers probing his wounds, his torn body being handled, hurt more. But all that came was heavy, thick, penetrating warmth that enveloped him and reached inside him, almost but not quite burning, almost but not quite washing away all the pain. He moaned and pushed up into that, into the searing clear heat, feeling his skin and muscles hum and move as if pulled together by gentle luminous strings.

"What…"

"Shhh. Just relax, Gojyo. I'm trying to heal you."

"You, guh, aah," the heat rippled, and he somehow, without looking, felt open hands hovering just above him, generously pouring life and light into his torn flesh. "Ugh, feels nice."

"Tell me if it hurts."

"No. Itches. But – in a good way. Nnnh."

"I'm sorry. I didn't expect this to happen. Kami is much better with children," said the guy, and Gojyo shivered even in the middle of all this glow, thinking about that blond jerk getting his hands on some hapless brats.

"There isn't a lot I can do about the blood loss, unfortunately."

"Will he be all right, Hakkai?" whined Kami.

"Not entirely, not for a while," hands moved, did something, and Gojyo lost the last of his pride and whimpered out loud, feeling the beads slide and pop out of him one by one, here and there. "But he will survive. I'll try to make sure there are no scars. Oh…"

He touched the wet mangled mess of Gojyo's knees, sighed and cupped them in his palms. Gojyo willed himself to stay still and not scream too much as bone shards moved inside his joints like creepy living things, finding their way back into kneecaps.

"You will be limping for some time, Gojyo, I'm afraid," said Hakkai. "Really, Kami-kun, you should be more careful. Didn't we have that talk about spilling blood? Look how messy it is. I don't like looking at it at all."

"I'll mop it all up, promise," said Kami, sulking.

"It's not that simple, Kami-kun. It's blood. It's not enough to just mop it up. Gojyo's clothes need to be laundered. With bleach. And, oh, his hair is soaked through."

"No, it's not," said Kami. "It's dry. It's just red."

"Ah," one of Hakkai's hands gingerly touched his scalp, flinched back straight away. The man rose and stepped back, hastily. "So it is. I didn't notice before, in the dark. I can't say I approve."

"I'm sorry," Gojyo whispered quietly, biting his hand. There was a patch of new pink skin on his wrist, in place of the round wound he had there a minute ago. It didn't look like it was going to scar.

"Okay, Hakkai, be like that," Kami seized Gojyo's wrist and pulled him up with unexpected strength. Gojyo went limp and refused to cooperate, not even sure he could stand up yet. "We'll play downstairs, where you can't see us."

"You'll kill him in a matter of hours if I don't supervise," said Hakkai. "Kami, I don't think you can keep him."

"You can't tell me what to do!" screamed the blond, dropping Gojyo like a sack of potatoes. "I'm not letting him go! No one leaves this castle! If you don't want to play together, then fine…"

"Hakkai," said Gojyo, twisting around to face the man. Here, in bright light, he looked young and eerily handsome, but Gojyo suspected that anyone standing between him and Kami would look like an angel right now. "Please don't leave. Look, if the hair bothers you, cut it all off, whatever. Don't leave me with him."

"Yeah!" said Kami, happy and bouncing again. "We can shave his head! Make it all shiny! Or, ooh, we can dye his hair, maybe pink, or black – I even know how we can make it black…"

Hakkai didn't answer. He kept looking at Gojyo, dismayed, possibly disgusted. His face was too still for Gojyo to tell for sure.

"Your eyes," he said finally. "Your eyes are…"

Gojyo flung an arm across his face and curled up in a ball, because when that happened, begging was useless. But nobody even touched him, and the silence was stretching long, growing unbearable.

"Company," said Kami suddenly. "Can you feel it, Hakkai? We have guests. Hey you, go to your room, I'll deal with you later."

They left swiftly, heading downstairs. Gojyo could feel their footsteps echoing through the long staircase. When the sounds had died in the distance he decided to get up and try to sneak out of this nuthouse while he still had all his limbs intact. Right after a little rest.


	2. Chapter 2

  
He lost track of time again – he was getting sick of feeling disoriented – and couldn't tell how long it was before he heard voices again, rising up from the bottom of the stairwell. Kami was laughing, high and shrill sounds that made his skin crawl, and Hakkai was talking to someone calmly. There were also strange, desperate wheezing sounds, as if that someone couldn't get in enough breath to really scream.

Gojyo got up, slowly and carefully, and brushed dry red flakes from his face. Blood on his clothes and on the floor was cold and stinky, but still wet. Cringing, he peeled sticky fabric off his skin and tried to move. It felt strange – the wounds were closed, but still somehow there, pulsing under thin freshly-grown skin, and his knees were weak and wobbly. He made it to the railing and leaned over to take a look.

The staircase was missing the last flight, ending abruptly some twenty feet above the floor. Several wide, elaborately decorated doors opened into the bottom of the round stairwell, and there were some people down there, surrounded by endlessly high carved marble walls: Kami, Hakkai and four more, sprawled at their feet. Only one of them was moving - trying to crawl away, clutching his arm that looked broken or viciously dislocated.

"Just one left," said Kami. "This batch lasted quite long!"

"Youkai are known for being sturdy," Hakkai said. "That, of course, is a misconception. They break just as readily as humans. Hmm, what shall we do now? Oh, I know."

He swiftly dropped into a crouch over the wounded youkai, but instead of healing him as Gojyo half-expected, jabbed a finger into his bad elbow. The youkai howled, shaking, and let out a long string of curses mixed with pleas for mercy.

"Do I have your attention? Good. Now, how about a little riddle?"

The youkai stared at him, perplexed and horrified. Kami clapped his hands delightedly and ran to the doors, waving a huge set of assorted keys. He unlocked two of the doors and stood next to one, grinning broadly in anticipation.

"Bet he won't get it right," he giggled.

"It's a good old classic," said Hakkai, rising from the crouch. "Stop me if you know this one. You get to choose between these two doors. Behind one of them is a hungry tiger. Behind the other is a little attraction I like to call, ahem, the Maze of Twilight. I designed it myself, and I think it will prove both stimulating and challenging, and should provide plenty of opportunities to reach safety. Ah, that is, if you are at the intermediate reading level, at least. I should probably adjust that in the future – it's discriminating against those who were less privileged as children, don't you think? Not everybody had the opportunities an orphanage can offer."

The youkai's face, contorted with fear and pain, was turning greenish-white under the streams of sweat. He flinched back from Hakkai's feet, tried to kneel up, swaying and trembling. Hakkai gave him a charming smile and continued.

"Now, to find the right door, you can ask us one question, no more. There is a little catch – one of us will only tell the truth, and the other…"

The poor guy finally snapped, jumped to his feet and ran for the nearest door, screaming. He ripped it open and was thrown right back by the force pushing to get out.

It was an actual hungry tiger. Not figurative, or toy or origami one, like Gojyo hoped.

In a matter of seconds the guy was pinned to the stone floor. Huge clawed paws rent his shoulders to mince while the other two watched, not disturbed at all by the proximity of a raging predator. Kami's happy cheers were almost drowned out by the man's piercing cries and the growls of the animal. The youkai's good arm snapped inside the tiger's maw with a loud crack.

"Hold on!" screamed Gojyo and hopped over the railing. He called the shakujou mid-drop, aiming to strike the beast from behind, before he hit the floor. Considering the state of his knees, the pain was going to stun him for longer than he could afford now. But his blade, which always had done exactly what he wanted it to do, twisted and flew widely off-aim. Gojyo let out a growl to rival the tiger's, retracted the chain, going for the second strike. He was ready to land, balanced and prepared, perfectly judging the distance. When a dozen feet from the floor he crashed head first into absolutely nothing it really took him by surprise.

"You can't just jump a hungry tiger like that, Gojyo," he heard, falling on the floor in a messy heap, jarred by the impact, but desperately struggling to recover, because the guy was still alive, still screaming. "That's against the rules."

Gojyo gritted his teeth, got up, called the weapon he lost in the fall and rushed the tiger, wielding shakujou like a spear, not trusting his long-distance aim any longer. The thing and its prey were out of reach, protected by the invisible barrier that didn't give no matter how hard he slammed into it. But since nobody moved to stop him, he kept trying till the screams ceased completely.

After which he fell to his knees which couldn't take his weight any longer, threw up some of the water he'd drunk earlier and fainted like a girl.

*-*-*  
He was lying on the white cold marble, between two flights of wide winding stairs, just like he'd never moved from here in the first place. Only there wasn't any blood on his face, clothes or on the floor underneath him. No blood at all, no stains, no wounds, no holes in his shirt. The ache still was there, under his skin, and his knees hurt like a bitch and wouldn't cooperate. Everything that happened since he first woke up in this castle of crazy was beginning to fade together in one confused ball of incomprehensible fuck-uppedness.

"Ah, Gojyo-san, you're awake," called the voice from behind. "Please join us."

He got up, clutching at the stairs and the railing. He could've sworn there was no doorway on his right before, but apparently one was there now. The doorway opened into a large, candlelit dining room with high shuttered windows and no furniture but a long table in the middle of it. Kami and Hakkai sat close together near one end, their dainty porcelain plates still empty, not touching any of the food stacked on the table before them. There was a third chair and a plate, waiting for him, a little further away.  
Gojyo hobbled there and sat down, straightening his legs with a grunt like an old man. He was very hungry, as long as he didn't think about the tiger, and that probably hadn't happened anyway. With all the sleeping and passing out he'd done lately he easily could've dreamed or hallucinated some of that stuff.

He could really do with a bottle or preferably a crate of beer and a plateful of barbequed beef, some deliciously greasy egg fried rice, sticky spicy pork ribs, a duck roll or ten. Hell, a bowl of plain ramen would taste like heaven right now. He wondered who did the cooking around here - maybe the creepy twins had servants he hadn't seen yet. Maybe they ordered in. He grabbed the chopsticks, dove for the food and stopped, vaguely revolted.

The table was piled high with lavishly decorated cakes, iced fruit pies, huge bowls of improbably coloured jelly beans. There were sugared plums, almond cookies, those sickening bean paste sweets he could never face, buns, lollipops, gummy bears, chocolate-covered marshmallows and other sugary crap that hurt his teeth even to look at.

"Do you have any real food?" he asked.

Nobody answered at first. Kami was busy stacking pieces of cake in a misshaped gooey tower, sloppily licking whipped cream off his fingers. Hakkai carefully placed one gingerbread man on his plate, plucked out the glazed chocolate button eyes and set them aside.

"Why eat boring food if you don't have to?" Kami asked, studding his creation with jelly beans. "Go crazy!"

"Um, thanks."

"It's very nutritious," Hakkai broke one gingerbread leg off and nibbled on it slowly. "Fills you up."

"This shit isn't good for men. Do you have any meat?"

"No, I'm afraid," Hakkai said apologetically. "The tiger doesn't leave much."

Gojyo threw down the chopsticks and got up, nearly falling over when his knees buckled under him again.

"Speaking of the tiger. You wanna tell me what the fuck that was? Is this how the two of you get your rocks off?"

"They were evil," Kami said. "Sit! I won't feed you if you misbehave. Hakkai, tell him!"

"Gojyo-san," said Hakkai. "Those creatures chose their fate. They came to us, looking for trouble. They were violent animals, rapists and murderers. Everyone is better off with them dead, believe me."

"So, is this your holy mission – to kill all the bad guys and become the only rapists and murderers in Tongekyo?"

"We didn't rape anyone," Hakkai said, cleanly snapping off the gingerbread man's head, "Yet. Please sit down, Gojyo."

Gojyo gave them the finger and painfully limped to the doors, looking for possible exists. He clearly started cracking already, because the idea of that crazy hot guy jumping him and using force seemed disturbingly uplifting for some reason.

"Oh-oh," Hakkai sighed behind him. "He'll walk right into the fog if he carries on like that."

"I'll go fetch him later. Pass the gummy bears," answered Kami lightly.

*-*-*

When Kami found him in the fog, Gojyo was crouching on the steps with both hands fisted in his hair, staring into the middle distance with wide, dry eyes.

"Are you real?" he asked.

Kami scoffed, pulled him up, hoisted his pliant body against his shoulder and led Gojyo back through the long corridors, into the dark room with that lavish, stuffy bed.

"Lie down."

Gojyo obediently tumbled on top of the covers, didn't protest when Kami pulled his arms up and crossed them over his head, didn't move when strings of beads snaked over his wrists and tightened, chaining him to the headboard.

"Here, so you won't get into any more trouble while I'm away. Was it bad in the fog?"

"Go try it, if you want to know."

"It's always good for me," Kami shrugged, brushing Gojyo's hair away from his face. "I get to see Sensei. Hakkai goes there sometimes too, but he never tells me anything about it, which is not very fair. I tell him everything, except stuff that's a secret. But he's like that - he's cool, but he gets weird sometimes, you know?"

Gojyo kept quiet, looking at the dusty, cobweb-covered ceiling, relaxing his arms against the pressure of the beads. Kami poked him in the cheek with a finger, and Gojyo let his head roll limply against the pillow.

"You're no fun any more," Kami said.

"Then let me go," Gojyo suggested blankly. "Or kill me already."

"Silly," Kami giggled, tucked a blanket around his bare feet and left, leaving the door ajar again, as if Gojyo was a kid who could get scared of the dark otherwise.

He stared at the ceiling for some time, hoping for spiders or flies to provide entertainment, but eventually gave up and closed his eyes. He didn't stir even when long warm fingers ran over his legs, carefully probed at his knees, and moved higher.

"You're not asleep," Hakkai noted.

"No, I'm not."

The fingers stilled, then moved again, clinically confident, quickly skimming his body, trailing soothing warmth and ticklish humming magic in their wake.

"You're healing up very nicely," Hakkai said. "You should be good as new in several days, if you don't strain yourself like you did yesterday."

"That's yesterday already? Man, time flies when you are having fun."

Hakkai pulled back and stepped away from the bed. For a moment Gojyo was certain he really come in just to check on his injuries, and was going to walk away again and leave him alone to lie there and listed to the sound of his own mind decomposing. He kept quiet, squeezing his eyes shut in strange childish defiance. There was a shuffle of feet, soft clanking, and then - the unmistakable sound of liquid pouring, hitting the bottom of the glass, swirling around, filling it up, little bubbles of air rushing to the surface… The smell of pure clean water hit his nose and his aching, parched throat, and his eyes snapped open against his will.

"Please," he moaned before he could check himself, and bit hard on the inside of his cheek, disgusted at how little it took to reduce him to begging.

Hakkai bent over him and slipped a hand between his neck and the pillow. His palm was soft, no calluses, surprisingly gentle against Gojyo's skin. Gojyo held his breath as those fingers slipped into his hair, cupped the back of his head and carefully lifted it up. A large glass of water, beaded with clear drops even on the outside, appeared at his lips. He clamped his teeth on the rim, just in case, and drank it down as fast as he could without chocking.

"More?" asked Hakkai, absent-mindedly stroking his fingertips in Gojyo's hair while Gojyo caught his breath, feeling almost drunk now. Gojyo nodded against the moving fingers and got treated to a small pleased smile. Hakkai twisted around, still gently cradling his head, refilled a glass from the pitcher on the bedside table and brought it to Gojyo's lips again. Gojyo blinked, distracted by the way the man's long neck bent and turned when he moved, and gulped down the second helping, almost as fast.

"I won't give you any more water for the time being," said Hakkai, and Gojyo stiffened in his hold, biting down humiliating pleas that threatened to spill in from his still too-dry mouth. "Ah, I'm just worried you might get sick. Let's take this slow. Would you like to eat something?"

He eased Gojyo's head down on the pillow and turned back to the tray he had sitting near the bed.

"'I'm not hungry," Gojyo muttered, clenching his bound fists.

"You must be, Gojyo. You had no food for two days, at least. I know you have no taste for sweets, but I've tried to select, well, the least offensive things we have to offer. There are some glazed cherries – it's essentially fruit, it should be good for you. Cheesecake – eggs and dairy, almost like an omelette, really… No? Hmm, what about some dark chocolate, then? It's not that sweet, more bitter. And it will improve your mood."

"You think?" Gojyo asked as sarcastically as he could manage at the moment, trying not to breathe in the rich, tantalizing aroma of cocoa and vanilla, not to look at Hakkai's fingers breaking the dark bar into small glossy pieces.

"Yes, yes. Chocolate makes you feel loved," Hakkai announced earnestly and brought one chunk to Gojyo's lips, letting it hover there. "Please, Gojyo, just give it a try."

Gojyo's stomach chose that precise moment to produce a loud, impressively long growl. Hakkai frowned with concern and moved the chocolate piece another eighth of an inch closer, giving new intensity to the teasing smell.

Flushed with embarrassment, Gojyo obediently opened his mouth and let Hakkai slide the treat between his lips. He caught it on his tongue and held there, letting it melt, too aware of Hakkai's eyes on him to even bring himself to chew. Sweet thick liquid slid down his throat; he swallowed reflexively and almost right away felt new strength rolling fast through his blood, curbing the hunger, clearing his foggy head, making all the colours around him seem more vivid.

He reached for the second piece himself, swallowed it down almost without chewing, but made up for that with the third one, savouring it, sucking on it slowly, letting the bitter velvety taste coat the inside of his mouth, almost shivering with pleasure. But hunger won over, and he opened his mouth again, probably looking like a screaming fledging bird begging for a worm, only right now he was past caring.

"So good," he moaned, hastily chewing on the next piece while Hakkai already had another one waiting for him. "Fuck, it's tasty."

Hakkai was smiling now, pretty face glowing with contentment, clearly happy that he'd finally got their troublesome pet to behave. His fingertips were stained with melted chocolate, but he didn't seem to mind, still offering Gojyo one bite-sized chunk after another, so absorbed by the task that he could be easily caught off-guard. Gojyo chose a moment carefully, grabbed the chocolate with his teeth and closed his lips around sweet-smelling skin.

"I should have mentioned," Hakkai said coldly, even as his fingers trembled inside Gojyo's mouth, not withdrawing. "That I cannot control Kami's beads. I have no means of releasing you without causing severe damage."

"'M not afking you to," Gojyo mumbled, lapping up the skin-warm chocolate off Hakkai's hand and adventurously sliding his tongue further, ticking sensitive places between the fingers. "'M good here."

"Then… what do you want?"

"Mmmm," Gojyo sucked in more of his fingers, nibbled at them a little, flicked his tongue over the webbing between them. "This."

"G-god," Hakkai finally pulled his hand away, out of reach, gulping for the air, looking at Gojyo's smiling mouth with horrified fascination. "Why?"

"You're hot," Gojyo shrugged as much as the ropes would let him, wriggled his hips, trying to crawl up higher. "I'm bored. I haven't had sex for longer than food. Want me to suck on something else? I'm open to ideas."

Hakkai distractedly brought that hand to his lips, licked at traces of Gojyo's saliva glistening there, and the sight of his pink tongue moving made Gojyo groan quietly and squirm harder.

"Please don't do this," Hakkai whispered. "It's not exactly fair to me. I'm not – you know, you've seen what I am. What I can do. And I've been celibate for over a year now. It's hard for me to keep a level head."

"Don't then. Come on. Look, man, I'll probably die here, so..."

"No, no," Hakkai shook his head violently, raked both hands through his hair, jaw set with resolve. "No, I won't let any more harm come to you, I promise. You don't have to do this."

"But I want to," Gojyo untangled one foot from the blankets and slowly slid it across Hakkai's lap, aiming for the crotch where, he was almost certain, a nice hard surprise would be waiting for him.

"Oh, really?" the man moved, fast as a dark flash of lightning, and fell on top of Gojyo heavily. Gojyo grimaced, pinned to the bed with his legs splayed open, the sudden pressure forcing the air out of his lungs. The shift in position made the ropes tighten so painfully he wanted to scream. He tried to slide back up on the bed, but Hakkai held him in place, breathing hotly in his face, shaking against his skin.

"Are you telling me you want this? Do you want to be held down and not given a choice? Do you want a stranger, a youkai, a murderer, to handle your body as if he has a right to?"

Gojyo twisted, trying to breathe, fighting for purchase, but his feet kept sliding on the clean, thoroughly ironed bedsheets. Hakkai rocked into him once, pressing his cock into Gojyo's inner thigh, hard, bigger than he expected. Gojyo felt those long fingers curling over the waistband of his pants, tugging it down harshly till the belt was biting into his hip on the other side.

"Tell me again you want to lie here, bound and helpless, while a monster rips into you and you can do nothing to stop him. Go on, Gojyo, I want to hear it."

"Sh-shit," Gojyo wheezed. "Wait, move a bit, this fucking hurts. You're heavier than you look. What's with the freak-out? Not like I'm forcing myself on you. Calm down."

"You," Hakkai eased off him a little, more out of surprise than because he was listening. "You have no idea what you're playing with. You…"

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay. I won't if it's such a big deal for you. I was only angling for some harmless fun, but – ah, crap!" he thumped his head against the pillow, angry at himself for being such a dumb asshole. "If you went without for a year it was probably for a reason. What can I say, I'm slow like that. Sorry, man."

Hakkai blinked and slowly slid off him and down onto the floor, curling up near the bed, almost out of Gojyo's sight.

"Hey," Gojyo said, carefully poking his shoulder with a toe. "Whatever happened to you - it's none of my business, okay? You don't have to explain. Come back, it's all good."

"Half of the time I don't know what I'm doing," Hakkai said after a long pause in a muffled voice, as if he had his face buried in his hands. "It's getting worse. I shouldn't be around people. I'm dangerous. I'll talk to Kami, I have to make him see reason and let you go. Our landlord seems to have taken some interest in you, so persuasion will probably fail, but I'll force the issue if I have to."

"Eh," Gojyo smiled sadly, "Not like I have something wonderful waiting for me outside. My landlord is probably fencing my stuff as we speak, since I owed him for two weeks even before I didn't show up to pay my rent on Sunday. My buddy left town with some serious guys on his tail, both my girls said no more freebies for penniless redheads..."

"You have two girlfriends?" Hakkai asked, vaguely amused.

"Yeah. As in, I know two hookers who used not to charge me. But, sure, life's not cheap nowadays, girls gotta make their living. Hey, do you wear your limiters all the time?"

"I do."

"That's bad for you, you know. My brother used to say it can cripple your youkai powers if you never take them off."

"I wouldn't mind that," Hakkai's hand came up to touch the limiters, but jerked away at the last moment. He turned around where he sat and leaned his cheek on the bed. "Is your brother a hanyo as well?"

"No, no, Jien's normal. Full youkai, like you. You have any brothers or sisters yourself?"

"Ah," Hakkai's hands twisted in the bed covers, his mouth quirking painfully. "Let's talk about something else, please, Gojyo."

"Okay, okay. Hm, what's up with that Kami guy? How did you two hook up?"

"That – well. He saved my life. He wanted a friend. He… He's a lonely boy in need of care and companionship. I'm not enough to give him what he needs, but I do what I can."

"Does he have a real name?"

"I suppose so, but he left it behind out of desire to forget his past. I'm guilty of the same childish tactics myself, actually. 'Hakkai' is just a nickname out landlord gave me. He used to joke that I lived like a monk, observing, without having set out to, all the major precepts except one."

"Which one?"

"He kills," Kami said from the doorway. "Hakkai, did I say you could play with my new toy?"

"We promised to share everything, remember?" Hakkai said calmly, rising from the floor. Something in the set of his shoulders made Gojyo want to not be on the line between them, and he hastily shifted on the bed, awkwardly twisting his bound arms.

"How is it sharing if I'm not even here?" Kami threw a take-out bag on the bed and released the ropes with one flick of his fingers, making beads bounce and scatter over the floor. "Here, I brought you that meat you wanted. Now get out, I want to sleep."

"You never sleep here," Hakkai said.

"I want to now. This is our best bed, and I always give it to the guests who are never grateful," Kami fell on the covers, barely giving Gojyo time to move aside, snagged the pillow and hugged it to his chest, frowning fiercely. "Go away, both of you."

Hakkai smiled, pulled the covers over Kami's defiantly hunched shoulders and patted his back.

"Fine, fine. Join us when you've rested, we'll be waiting for you."


	3. Chapter 3

  
The spare ribs were cold, dry and sticky, covered in clumps of congealed fat. After all the chocolate meat had no appeal, not that he would even risk eating the meat that Kami brought from hell knows where. Instead he cleaned up the tray Hakkai brought for him, stuffing sweets in his mouth indiscriminately. Sugar made him shaky and giddy, and the little pink marshmallows swelled up in his stomach, making him full like after a good meal.

"Let's go give this to the hungry tiger," he said and picked up the greasy takeout bag. Hakkai frowned, shrugged and took him down a winding corridor to the dark room with a large stinky cage.

The tiger was half-tamed, like a guard dog. It growled and snapped at them through the bars till it got a taste of food, and then mellowed out enough to let them pet it a little. Gojyo buried his fingers in long, kitten-soft fur under the tiger's jaw and scratched, trying to make it purr. The tiger endured that for a while, whipped its tail against the floor and stalked deeper into the cage for an aftermeal nap.

"That was extremely dangerous," said Hakkai. "But it seems to like you."

"I've never seen one this big."

"It's a Bengal variety. From India, I believe. Our landlord gave it to Kami as a present when it was only a cub. He used to play with it and let it run free until it stopped being cute."

"Huh," Gojyo said, eyeing tiger's slick striped back. It was still a beautiful beast, even underfed and slow from the lack of exercise. The bones piled in the corner of the cage – white, gnawed clean, with unmistakable round skulls – didn't give him the chills like he expected. After all, a tiger's gotta do what a tiger's gotta do.

"Are you tired? If you feel up to walking some more, I could show you around the place."

They wandered around, shoulder to shoulder, from one ridiculously large room to another, turning corners at random, up and down narrow steps. Hakkai didn't provide much of a running commentary, apart from pointing out bathrooms and warning him about weird traps that were littered everywhere – spikes shooting from the ceiling, trapdoors opening into chilly darkness, rooms with moving walls designed to squish the occupants into paste. Gojyo tried to memorise the triggers, but the whole place was like a demented maze: corridors kept turning on themselves over and over, staircases neatly deposited them back where started climbing, and all those bare rooms with monotonous wall carvings could actually be the same room they kept ending up in wherever they went. He wasn't so sure Hakkai knew where they were going any better than he did – when they walked through the dining room for the third time, the guy looked pretty surprised.

When his knees went from sore and weak to stiff and throbbing Gojyo sat on the nearest step for a little rest, and Hakkai knelt next to him, massaging his  
swollen joints and washing magic over them. His touches were light and cool, just what Gojyo's tight itchy new skin wanted.

"So, you're not worried that learning the lay of the land will help me escape?" he asked, watching the green glow build between Hakkai's fingers and fade as in sunk into his flesh.

"Are you learning anything?"

"Not really," he admitted. He was more confused than before, which was probably the point.

"The only exit is through the main stairs. It's quite possible to pass through the fog, although it can be an overwhelming experience. But beyond that the castle is surrounded by a barrier. It cannot be forced – in fact it can't even be reached, much like a horizon. Perhaps a high priest could dispel it. We can't."

He glanced up through his messy bangs, and Gojyo once again was startled by the deep green of his eyes and tight, mournful set of his mouth.

"I want you to escape, Gojyo," Hakkai said. "I can't protect you forever in here."

"What? I don't need any protection, who do you think I am? That one time I just freaked out a little."

Yeah, and then he ate some pink marshmallows and got ready to kick psycho god-wannabe ass like nobody's business. He sighed, thinking of strategies. Strangling the skinny blond freak in his bed seemed like a great idea, but really too disgusting to seriously contemplate.

"We should both leave here, anyway," he said. "Sooner the better. Let's face it, this place is no fun."

"I have nowhere to go," mumbled Hakkai distantly, hunching over till the ends of his hair brushed Gojyo's lap. Gojyo had to fist his hands at his sides to make sure he didn't reach out and touch the dark silky strands, or Hakkai's long slim neck, or the limiters on his ear.

"S'okay, you can come with me. Ever been to Southern Chang'An? You'll like it. We have everything, you name it: bars, girls, gambling joints, uh, libraries.We can rent a place real cheap once we get there – where are we, anyways?"

"I'm not sure. Chang'An is to the East. Considerably far, I imagine."

"Well, whatever, we'll get there. We can winter in some village. Two freaking gorgeous guys in our prime, we'll be welcome anywhere."

"Yes," said Hakkai with a smile, still crouching at his feet. "We could work in the fields, it's about the time for the harvest. Or we could help out at the local school. You'll be popular with all the girls, no doubt, and I always preferred the rural lifestyle myself. The houses are quite inexpensive West of Chan'An. We could buy a small derelict place, fix it up, make it a home."

It was just like listening to a bedtime story in the dark of the room he used to share with Jien. His brother would smile just like that, dreamy and sad, faking it shamelessly because little stupid Gojyo wouldn't be able to tell, and weave long, rambling tales that always ended well. And they lived happily ever after, the prince and his knights and all their pet dragons.

"So, you're not coming," Gojyo said, not even trying to make it a question.

"No."

Gojyo nodded and turned away, because looking at Hakkai suddenly got to be a little too much. But there was nothing else to rest his eyes on. Just walls, walls, broken toys scattered around, more walls.

"How come there are no windows?" he asked.

"There used to be some. But we sealed them. There is nothing out there anyway - just trees and rain."

"It's not raining," Gojyo said. He could usually tell. When he was ten his wrist got broken pretty badly, and now it worked as his own personal barometer.

"Isn't it?" Hakkai tilted his head, listening. The silence was so thick and heavy that every breath Gojyo took sounded deafening to him. "Ah. Perhaps you're right."

"Let's go outside, check it out," he suggested. "We'll both go nuts if we stay cooped up like this."

"Oh, I don't do that. I've only left the castle once, to bury my sister, and even that didn't work out. But if you want some fresh air, I can take you to the roof. The view should be quite spectacular."

Gojyo could've asked him a lot of questions. Of course he could. But Hakkai clearly had enough to deal with already, he didn't need any stray hanyos pumping him for attention and information. Gojyo learned quite early on to take exactly as much as he was offered, and that turned out to be a very useful skill.

"How high's this place?" he asked instead.

"Thirteen floors. But we'll take the elevator."

There was still a long flight of stairs from the elevator landing to the narrow, padlocked door that led to the roof. Gojyo managed to climb about five steps before his knees started to shake badly, refusing to haul his weight up any longer.

"Let's have a little rest," said Hakkai, tugging him on the sleeve, but Gojyo pulled free and swayed forward, ready to crawl up on all fours. He could almost smell the sunlight, the wind and the trees, and he couldn't wait a second longer. Weird – he'd never been much of an outdoors person.

Hakkai caught him, ducked under his arm, took all Gojyo's weight on his shoulder and dragged him up the stairs, barely letting his feet touch stone. His back was narrow and bony, vertebras poking hard into Gojyo's side, but he could get used to this. Really easily.

"You have the key? Tell me you got the key," he panted, determined to refrain from groping, too shaky anyway with pain and anticipation.

"No, of course I don't," Hakkai kicked at the door, hard, enough to make the hinges pop out of the wood, and backed off as soon as the door opened a crack, shielding his eyes from the sunlight. "There. He'll probably get upset, but I'll calm him down if it comes to that. I'll wait for you here. Take your time."

The sun hit Gojyo's skin, mercilessly bright after the dim of the castle, and then the sharp pine forest air filled his chest, making him light like a balloon, like he could float off the roof any second now unless he held onto something. He made his way to the edge, manoeuvring between puddles, broken branches and streaks of bird shit, and sat down, dangling his legs over the guttering pipe.

The lush, dense forest was swaying and bowing to the wind far, far down below his feet. It probably looked like a stormy sea, except Gojyo'd never seen one and couldn't be sure. To him this looked like a green coat of a huge, huge dog, petted by a rough, careless hand. Wind stroked the treetops in broad swipes, drawing darker trails in the green, andthe patterns got swept away by another sharp gust.

He could see the barrier Hakkai told him about. Not far away from the castle something was breaking the rocking motion of the green waves, making them ripple and change direction just a little. That line ran around the whole place in a perfect circle, like their own stunted little horizon. Gojyo wondered if the birds could see and cross it, and how it felt for them – cold fingers in their feathers, sudden swirl of nothing under their wings - and could they find their way out again, and if they even cared at all. He wiggled his naked toes, critically surveying the castle wall. It was aged, covered in cracks and ivy. He could probably skim it and go check that barrier out. But if it was really as unbreakable as Hakkai said that would be a waste of time, and he was in no shape to do any climbing and hiking just for the hell of it. Also, Hakkai was waiting for him to come back.

He scowled at that thought, suddenly dying to get out. The forest looked so thick from above, like he could just jump off the roof and softly bounce off the green, slide between the leaves and leave all this behind. The beads, and the tiger, and Kami's crazy laugh, and Hakkai's distant fragile smiles, and this fucking weird compulsion to do something about it, to make it all better, and the cold knowledge that nothing he could do would mean a thing.

He sat on the tiled roof till his ass went numb, just watching the sun lean westward and letting the wind hopelessly tangle up his hair. If he had any smokes on him this wouldn't be any worse than hanging out somewhere around the market, soaking up the town gossip, leering at the passing girls and waiting for the bars to start opening. Okay, there were no girls here, but at least – fresh air, scent of pine, peace and quiet.

He got up, spat down into the abyss under his feet, just because you were supposed to do that sort of thing, walked back to the broken door and stuck his head inside.

"Hey, Hakkai? Come here, it's nice out. Not raining or anything. Hakkai?"

Hakkai was sprawled face down at the bottom of the staircase, still and limp, his hair spilling over dusty stone. Gojyo barrelled down, hardly feeling any pain, jumping over four steps at once, rolled the body over and clenched his teeth, bracing for the worst.

He was asleep. That bastard was actually sleeping, so soundly that he barely stirred at all the manhandling. He rubbed his cheek against Gojyo's wrist and snuggled closer to him, murmuring something nonsensical.

"You scared me, you jerk," said Gojyo, glad that Hakkai wouldn't hear him.

"Gojyo," Hakkai mumbled and curled against him, and Gojyo couldn't really stay mad any longer.

"Let's go put you in bed," he said and tried to pull them both up, but Hakkai gripped his hands and rolled his head against stone, still not all the way awake and firmly refusing to be.

"No beds. Can't."

"Come on, you're not really a monk, you can sleep in a high bed."

"Can't. Beds are too empty. Here's good," he burrowed his face into Gojyo's lap, yawned once and started quietly snoring almost straight away. Probably faking it, but what the hell. Gojyo settled against the wall, cradled the man closer and watched him doze for a while, and then he must have drifted off himself. Too much fresh air always made him feel tired.

  
*_*_*

  
"Idiot," said the priest, reloading his gun. "I should shoot you too and put you out of your misery."

He was so pretty, slight and angry and glowing brighter than the silver of his revolver, brighter than the moonlight pouring through the windows from the suddenly cloudless sky.

"Tempting," drawled Gojyo and scratched at the rope burns on his arms. "I wouldn't mind a better look at your gun, Sanzo-sama."

"The hell were you doing, messing with guys like that? You're a card shark, right? The smallest fry. This is out of your league, cockroach."

(Back then he had said something smartass, lewd and cool that had made the priest twitch, but in every single dream about that night he told him the truth, and every single time it sounded impossibly pathetic.)

"…I had to. I had to give him the chance. Didn't matter he wasn't coming back for me. He's my friend, you know? Asshole as he is, he's still the best friend I have."

But even in the dreams pretty blond Sanzo never looked at him with pity, and Gojyo liked that about him. Liked other things about him, too.

"Mister, you're all bleeding. Do you need to see a doctor?" asked the cute little squirt that came with the priest and kicked some thief ass like Gojyo wouldn't believe if he hadn't seen it.

"Nah. Just need to get home. Eh, thanks I guess. I'll see you around," Gojyo tried to get up, holding onto the wall and the smashed remnants of the chair he'd been tied to, but his head still spun too much after the beating he took and his back felt kinda fucked up. The Sanzo priest rolled his eyes, grabbed him by the arm and steadied him when he swayed.

"Come on, we'll walk you to whatever hole you live in."

He was going to tell them not to take their shoes off at the door, because he forgot to sweep up – for about two years – but Sanzo took one look at his filthy floor and told the boy to keep the boots on. Gojyo offered the priest a beer, gave the boy the cake he got from the barmaids and went to the shower, leaving his clothes on the bedroom floor, as usual.

When he came back, clean and wet, wrapped in a towel, the cake was gone and the boy was sound asleep on his rumpled bed. The priestalready requisitioned another can from the fridge and was reading the clean bits of the newspaper the cake had been wrapped in.

"Sorry about the cake," he said. "I tried to save you a piece, but that didn't work out."

"It's okay, I don't much like the sweets," Gojyo took the seat opposite the priest and opened a can for himself. "The girls gave it to me for my birthday. I'm twenty today, yo. All growed up."

Sanzo sneered and looked around for an ashtray, his cigarette carefully tilted so the ash wouldn't fall off the end. Gojyo told him to use the damn empty if the floor was too good for His Holiness, stole a cig for himself from the priest's pack and dragged on it heavily, pressed the cold can to his bruises and sighed with relief.

"This place is a fucking dump," said Sanzo.

"Shove it, princess. The house isn't that bad. Suits me fine. "

Sanzo shook his head, staring disgustedly at the sticky grimy table.

"I mean," said Gojyo, feeling weirdly sentimental. Birthdays were always a crappy time, even the ones when he didn't get beaten up. "I don't know - I think the older I get the less I give a shit. I survived, found a town where I can pass easily and make enough to get by, so what do I do now? It's just so fucking boring. I still have maybe fifty years of this, and someone died so I could have it, and yeah, I'm grateful, but… Do you ever get like that?"

"No," said Sanzo, too quickly and firmly, but Gojyo still believed him. "I'm not a filthy drifter like you. My life has a purpose."

The boy turned and whimpered into the pillow. Sanzo cast him a concerned glance through the open bedroom door, but the fussing soon stopped, replaced byeven soft snores. Gojyo quietly smirked into his beer.

"I have a job to do," the priest carried on. "And a quest to complete. I've no time to wallow in imaginary angst. Your self-pitying whining makes me want to puke, although maybe it's just the smell of this place. You know, a lot of people would give their right arm to have what you have."

"I know," he said softly. "Didn't mean to get heavy on you. Wanna play poker?"

(And sometimes in the dream the priest would say no, undo his breastplate, drop it on the floor and reach for Gojyo with his eager warm fingers smelling of gunpowder. But not always. Sometimes he would accept the offer, light another cigarette while Gojyo dealt, stare out of the window and listen to the quiet songs of night birds.)

"By the way," Sanzo said. "You might have seen something out here in the woods. I'm looking for an escaped murderer. His name is -"

  
*-*-*

  
He woke up to the sleep-hazed knowledge that Hakkai was having a nightmare. The man was jerking in his lap, breathing fast and loudly gritting his teeth. Gojyo shook him awake and grinned down into is blank, confused face:

"Just a dream. You're okay."

"No, no," mumbled Hakkai, treading his sleep-clumsy fingers through Gojyo's hair. "So much blood. Did I do this to you?"

"Ah hell, Hakkai, we've been over this already. I was born like this, all right?"

"Not really," Hakkai stroke a finger dangerously close to his scars, and Gojyo wanted to flinch away, but the touch moved lowe, to brush tangled strands from his neck. "I don't know. Maybe I have done this to you. We all meet for a reason. Time is a circle, and karma never rests, and there is no way of being certain. Perhaps that's Mercy – could you forgive me if you knew?"

He looked up at Gojyo pleadingly, waiting for something, maybe for Gojyo to make some sense of all that babbling. Gojyo hugged him closer and rocked him gently, stroked his hair, trying to remember how Jien used to do it.

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay," he murmured softly. "I'm here. I've got you, I'm here."

Hakkai exhaled noisily and pressed his face into Gojyo's palm.

"Maybe what I feel is my soul yearning to atone," he said. His wet lips were moving right against Gojyo's skin, words falling out like feather-light sloppy kisses.

Considering how he freaked out the last time sex was mentioned, Gojyo knew he should ignore that, and not pay any attention to his morning wood rubbing against Hakkai's warm back, somewhere between his sharp, skinny shoulder blades. But Jien had always said sex was soothing. And he wanted to help – and, okay, who he was kidding, he really wanted to get off. Every hour in this place was just making him edgier and hornier, as if the stuffy air inside was spiked with rape drugs. Hakkai was staring up at him, so pretty even when this crazy and distraught, his cool palm curled against the side of Gojyo's neck. And Hakkai's cock was just there, he didn't even have to move his hand, just shift his fingers…

"Senseeeeeeeeei!!!"

They both flinched. Hakkai's face changed – it was like a lid snapping closed. Rich green warmth drained out of his eyes, turning them stone jade.

Kami bounced along the corridor, his arms flailing in a macabre cheerleader dance, grabbed Gojyo by the collar and tugged hard, shaking Hakkai off him.

"Sensei is coming! I need to tidy you away. Toys go into the toy chest…"

"What? Like I don't spend enough time tied up around here, let go of me, asshole!"

"It's okay, Gojyo," Hakkai patiently uncurled Kami's fingers from Gojyo's clothing. "I'll be with you."

Kami's toy chest turned out to be a huge empty room with tall stained glass windows. The images were clumsy, angular and too bright, and Gojyo couldn't quite figure out who the mosaic people were and when they were doing, but knowing Kami that was likely for the best. Whatever was behind the glass, it wasn't the outside. The light coming through was sharp and artificial, even coloured red, blue and gold as it pierced the faces and robes of the mystery glass folk.

Most of the floor was buried under a pile of toys, some broken or creatively mutilated, some still nice and shiny. There was even a little railroad circling the room in erratic loops, toy avalanches spilling over tracks here and there like corpses of train crash victims. Another horrible tragedy claims the lives of seven teddy bears and two rag dolls. Hakkai picked a spot where most toys in the top layer were plush beanies and they both stretched there, side by side, waiting.

The ceiling didn't really exist. Above them, a domed roof narrowed into a black tunnel that had to, in theory, end somewhere under the roof, but it looked like an echoing abyss. Gojyo could almost see the distant stars there in the black if he squinted just so. Kami's voice drifted down from the shaft it hysterically pitched bursts. The other's voice was lower and didn't carry as well.

"Who is this sensei guy anyway?"

"I don't know, Gojyo. I've never met him face to face. His every visit goes like this, and I'm not sure if Kami is protecting his identity or me – well, us now."

Kami's squeals were getting louder, annoyingly regular. Yelp, yelp, laugh. Again, again, again.

"What the hell are they doing there? Sounds like they are screwing or something."

"Hmm. They probably are. Kami likes men."

"You mean - did he ever… With you?" Gojyo started cautiously, getting chills. He hadn't thought Kami was the one who left Hakkai broken like this, but he could've been wrong.

"Oh, no, we're not having sex. Well, perhaps, a long time ago, but I'm not quite sure that really had happened. You see, when I just got here, I was delirious most of the time. Fever from the injuries… among other things - "

"He – shit, no. Tell me he didn't fuck you while you were lying there wounded."

"It wasn't what you're thinking," said Hakkai quietly. His hand crept up to his stomach and pressed there, as if he was getting queasy. "I'm certain I've asked him to do that, at least once."

"What?"

"I wanted to be violated."

There was nothing to say to that. Gojyo shifted to get a tin soldier from under his back and stared upwards. Kami was laughing hard; it sounded like he was going to choke.

"Are you disgusted?"

"Nah. If you wanted it, it's cool I guess. Different strokes and all that."

"No, no," Hakkai shook his head, dislodging a small beanie hare. It slid down and sprawled on the floor, helpless and smiling with his red stitched-on mouth.

"You see, when I ended up here, I thought it was Hell. This doesn't look like any kind of reality, does it? I thought I was meant to be here. I thought I was going to be punished, the way I deserved. But of course that wasn't what I deserved. If that was Hell, I wasn't the tortured soul. I was one of its demons. It's very fitting, don't you think? To spend an eternity as a thing you despise the most, not atoning, not repenting, but sliding deeper and deeper into sin and madness. I welcomed it. Nothing less would be enough."

"This isn't Hell," said Gojyo. He could feel goosebumps crawling down his arms. This wasn't hell. This was just a lair of one fucked-up kid who knew some magic, and Hakkai was – he needed to get out of here. They both did.

"Oh, I know that now," said Hakkai, smiling a little. "You don't belong here. You are real. Everything about you is real, like blood, like life. Even in a place like this."

He tipped his face to the ceiling and stared into the dark blindly, talking softly and quietly, as if in a trance.

"For a long time there was nothing I could trust. Everything I knew about the world, everything I knew about myself, it was all gone, ripped to pieces, burned to ash. But you exist, and you talk to me. I must still be real too. When I see my reflection in your eyes, I'm washed in red, but I'm there. When you touch me…"

He sighed, his eyes fluttering shut, and ran a palm down his fly. His fingers circled the outline of his cock, rubbed so lightly he probably hardly felt it. Gojyo bit down a moan, unwilling to make any sound that'd break the spell.

"When I'm with you, I feel like I could…" Hakkai muttered, and suddenly snatched his hand away and opened his eyes, blinking fast.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry. I spend so much time alone that I've lost all sense of propriety, and…"

"Shh, that's okay," Gojyo put a hand on his wrist and softly guided it back down. "Go ahead."

"But…"

"Hey, what else is there to do to pass the time? We might as well blow off some steam while we wait for him to finish entertaining. I know I need it."

Hakkai just stared at him, wide-eyed, his hand immobile in Gojyo's grip, frozen in mid-air. Gojyo didn't want to pull harder, and anyway it didn't feel like he could arm-wrestle Hakkai with any degree of success.

"Come on," he said. "Like you never jerked off with other guys as a kid."

"Ah," Hakkai seemed to relax a little. "That. I… I understand it's a competitive activity in some way?"

"No, we're not gonna race," Gojyo let go of him and unzipped his pants with all the nonchalance he could muster. "We're not brats. Let's just… Have a good time, yeah?"

His dick ached in his hand, twitching impatiently when he pulled it out. He couldn't even remember anymore how long it's been since the last time, but definitely too long. A single stroke was enough to bring him to full hardness, and if he squeezed just so – no, no, better make it last. Even without looking he could feel Hakkai's eyes on him, like a hot breath on his skin. Gojyo wasn't sure if he really would join in, but this was enough, lying close to him, imagining him watching. He let his head roll back and stroked, slow and easy, up and down the shaft, teasing at sensitive spots with his fingertips. He wanted to put on a show, make it look good. But then he heard Hakkai's breathing hitch and speed up, and lost all the finesse, squeezed his eyes shut and thrust into his fist, suddenly desperate to come, shaking with it.

He was panting loudly, twisting his hips, thinking of Hakkai sprawled next to him, looking at him, looking at his cock. He nearly missed the quiet sound of zipper pulled open.

For several endless seconds he held back and didn't look, giving Hakkai time to get into it and relax a little. Then he turned his head and opened his eyes. Hakkai's mouth was just inches from his, lips parted and quivering, flushed dark, as if he's been biting them. He was looking down, his gaze glued to the movements of Gojyo's fingers. His pants were opened, white boxers pushed down. His hand curled around the root of his cock and gripped it firmly, like a loaded gun. It was hard and thick, angry red at the tip. Gojyo's throat made a gasping sound, and Hakkai's darkened eyes flicked to his.

"This is rather awkward," Hakkai mumbled. A pink pretty flush was spreading high on his cheeks. "I can't believe you really did this with other children."

"Wasn't the same," Gojyo confessed. "Oh fuck, you, oh. You look good."

He stroked himself again, dragged his fingers over the underside of his cock. Hakkai did that too, mirroring his movements precisely, as if it was Gojyo's hand on him, caressing his skin. And it was so easy to imagine just that. Gojyo stared at Hakkai's fingers dancing gently over the soft head of his cock, pulling his foreskin back, squeezing the shaft, following his every direction and letting him set the pace.

He sped up, getting close again, and Hakkai moaned and started fucking his fist in tight short thrusts, a little out of sync with him now, too carried away to keep up.

"Oh god, what are we doing," Hakkai smiled and covered his face with his free hand, but didn't slow down. His narrow hips were moving, moving, and Gojyo was dying to touch him, to feel his muscles flex and strain.

"I guess… nngh… it is kinda crazy. Feels good though, yeah?"

"Feels amazing," said Hakkai. His voice was low and thick, and it did things to Gojyo's cock, as tangible as a wet lick on his skin. "Not crazy at all. Very sane. Oh, Gojyo."

He twisted his wrist and rubbed his thumb underneath the head, and now Gojyo did the same, trying it out. So this is how Hakkai liked it. This is what he would do…

His cock was starting to chafe in his dry palm, but he didn't want to stop even to add some spit, just jerked himself harder and watched, trying not to blink so he wouldn't miss a thing. Hakkai spread his thighs and groaned, his back arched, his left hand sliding down to cup his balls.

"Gojyo," Hakkai said and rolled onto his side to face him. Tiny drops of sweat were beading above his upper lip, and he licked them away, just as Gojyo imagined doing that, swiping his tongue across Hakkai's sexy panting mouth. "Gojyo, do you still want me?"

"Ohh, fuck, yeah, I do," he moaned, clumsily trying to push up and move closer. The toys were sliding underneath him, not giving any good purchase. He wanted to do everything at once – shed his pants, touch Hakkai's face, twist around so he could get his lips on Hakkai's thick, gorgeous cock and feel how hot it would be in his mouth. All his blood was thrumming in his ears and his dick and he couldn't think at all.

Hakkai let go of his cock and curled that hand around Gojyo's, gently and carefully. It was hot from the friction and a little damp with sweat. Hakkai tightened his grip, exhaled happily, and stroked up, palming the head. And to his dismay Gojyo was coming already, spilling long streaks over Hakkai's wrist and the lines of his palm and a shocked terrycloth face of a small teddy bear next to Hakkai's hip.

Hakkai let go of him and brought his wet hand back to his own erection, rubbing Gojyo's come into his skin, moaning softly, pumping his hips in short jerky thrusts.

"Wait, wait," pleaded Gojyo. His ears were still ringing from the power of that orgasm, but this was too hot, and he wanted to take part. "Gimme another minute, I'll be good to go again. Just a second, really, I'm..."

Hakkai let out a short content laugh, sunk his left hand into Gojyo's hair and pulled him closer. Gojyo flung his arm around Hakkai's neck and leaned into it, aching for him, wanting to taste his mouth. A horrified realisation that he hadn't brushed his teeth in a very long time skittered briefly across his mind, and then the tip of Hakkai's tongue slid wetly between his lips and it felt so good, even more real somehow than Hakkai's hand on his cock.

The doors banged open, and Kami stepped into the room, his lips pressed together in a thin line. A couple of dozen red beads were swirling slowly around his head like a bloody halo. Gojyo jerked upright, snagged the stained teddy bear and pressed it against his crotchto cover himself.

"Give me that," said Kami.

"What the fuck are you doing here, asshole, can't you knock?"

"Give me that bear," Kami pointed at the toy in Gojyo's lap. "Now."

"What? No way! What's wrong with you?"

"Just give him the bear, Gojyo," said Hakkai in that unnaturally calm voice that meant trouble. "And then he will leave, isn't that right, Kami-kun?"

"I'm not talking to you," Kami said. "I want this bear. Give it to me."

Gojyo swore and threw the poor sodden thing at Kami's face. The blond caught it neatly, turned on his bare heel and left, padding softly on the stone floor. The doors slammed shut behind his back, and the locks clicked into place somewhere deep inside the thick metal.

"What in the fucking hell was that?"

"I don't know," Hakkai said, staring after Kami and frowning. His erection was gone completely, and his cock curled against his thigh, small and soft, just barely peeking out of his underwear. "But we really have to get you out of here."


	4. Chapter 4

  
He woke up from the stinging slap across his face and swiftly rolled away, groping for the edge of the bed, ready to hide under it till she calmed down. Toys skittered under his hands, and he remembered where he was and forced his eyes open to figure out what was going on.

"Where is he?" hissed Kami, glaring down at him, sceptre aimed at his throat.

Hakkai wasn't where Gojyo last saw him, curled into tight uncomfortable ball with his back turned, telling him that he didn't get enough sleep before and was really quite tired. He didn't want to talk, and didn't want to fool around anymore after Kami'd left. And rattled as Gojyo was, he'd felt sated and sleepy after that not-quite-handjob, and the nap on the cold staircase hadn't refreshed him at all. The toys were soft and his limbs were heavy, and he fell asleep. And now Hakkai was nowhere to be seen.

"Where would he go," mumbled Gojyo, looking around the room. The doors were ajar, and one of them had a huge round hole blown clear though. The edges of it looked charred and melted.

"He's never done this before," said Kami. "It's all because of you. Tell me what you're planning!"

"We're not…"

"Tell me!" Kami yelled and swung the sceptre at him. A long string of beads flew off his shoulder and wrapped around Gojyo's neck, wrenching him up, tightening like a noose. He clawed at the beads with both hands, struggling for air, but his nails slid off them uselessly and gouged his own skin. Another string lashed him across the ribs like a heavy whip. He jerked under it, unable to even push a scream through his strangled throat. He could barely see Kami now, blind from pain and lack of air, but he forced his hands to let go of the beads, called the shakujou and took a wild swing.

The noose around his throat disappeared, and he dropped into a crouch, breathing carefully to stave off the coughing fit. He knew his strike hadn't connected, but making Kami dodge was enough to break his hold on the beads, and that was good to know. They stared each other down, weapons at the ready.

"I don't know where he is," said Gojyo. "I wouldn't tell you if I knew, but I don't. Why?"

"You don't know," mumbled Kami. The scattered beads rolled closer to him, gathering at his feet. "Then maybe I'll just make you scream till he hears and comes back to save you."

"That's fucked up even for you," Gojyo said, circling him slowly. Now he knew more about how the beads worked, and the room was big enough for manoeuvre. He had a fighting chance. "Look, he probably just got sick of the company and holed up somewhere to have some alone time. There is no need to get your panties in a bunch. Oh wait, you're not wearing any."

"He's not in the castle. I can't sense him. I think he's trying to leave."

"Well, good," Gojyo said firmly. "Good. It's about time he dumped your crazy ass and went back to the real – I mean, outside. He's not happy here. Can't you just let him go?"

"Don't you understand?" Kami screamed, stomping his foot. The beads jumped off the floor and settled back again. "If he leaves, he will die!"

"What? Why? Did you put some kind of spell on him?"

"It's not me. If he goes outside, they'll kill him."

"Oh fuck, who?"

"Anyone. A lot of people want him dead. He's done some bad things, and now they want to punish him. And he will let them."

That sounded disturbingly plausible. Some of Hakkai's crazy ramblings actually made much more sense now.

"But he told me he can't break the barrier," Gojyo said. "That was a lie, was it?"

"Well, not really," Kami said, fidgeting. He didn't look like he wanted a fight anymore, but Gojyo wasn't in a hurry to lower his weapon. "He could if he found my mirror. But he won't know where to look unless he paints guiding tantras on his skin, and he can't do that. You gotta be a priest. Except…"

"Except what, come on, he's probably heading for trouble!"

"Well, if he looks everywhere in the forest, he'll eventually find it, I guess. Only that would take forever, and he'd get bored, right?"

"Right," Gojyo said, letting the shakujou go. "Okay, let's not panic. I don't think he actually wants to leave. He just wants me out of here."

"But why?" Kami asked, tilting his head to the side, so his golden hair fanned over one shoulder. He was really cute when the crazy wasn't showing too much. "He likes you. Why would he want that?"

"Yeah, makes no sense to me either. Let's go find him and talk to him, and then we'll figure out what to do next."

He headed to the main stairs, more on the general sense of direction, because all the corridors still looked the same to him. Kami trudged after him like a lost puppy, trying to match his steps to Gojyo's longer strides.

"It's through there, turn left," he said, tugging gingerly on the side of Gojyo's vest. "You think he'll want to talk to us? He looked all sulky last time I saw him."

"Looked okay to me."

"You don't know him. Sometime he sulks for weeks. Wouldn't talk no matter what you do. I think you could hurt him till he died and he still wouldn't talk, when he's like that."

Gojyo clenched his teeth and firmly refused to think about that further. Whatever happened here in the past, it was their business. If Hakkai wanted revenge, he would take it. He seemed that kind of guy.

He faltered on the top of the familiar wide staircase, staring into the thin milky fog clinging to the stairs. Something was moving deep inside it. Could be just shadows, a trick of light. Last time the ghost had retreated when Kami showed up, so as long as they went in together it would probably be okay.

He put his foot on the first step, almost ready to see a hand emerge from the fog and wrap around his naked ankle. Her voice bounced inside his head, whispering familiar words: I wish you were dead, I wish you had never existed. Don't you want my wish to come true?

"Can you go get my boots?" he said. "Don't really want to trek around the forest barefoot."

"Yeah, sure," said Kami distractedly. "Oh, oh, he's coming back, I can sense him now. Told you he'd get bored."

"I figure he just doesn't want to leave us alone for long," Gojyo sat down on the step, trying not to feel too much like a pathetic coward, and Kami settled next to him, nodding.

"Maybe. He's been acting all selfish and greedy lately. I don't mind if we share you, you know."

"What? Seriously, you're such a creep… Hey, what did you do with that teddy bear? No, wait, I'm not sure I want to know."

"I gave it to Sensei."

"Yup, totally didn't want to know that."

"Next time he wants your blood."

"Does he now," Gojyo muttered, imagining an elderly, more senile version of Kami giggling and bouncing shakily toward him, swishing beads around. Except he probably had some badass huge exploding beads with sharp spikes. "Well, he's welcome to try."

"It's only a little bit, and then Hakkai will heal you," said Kami brightly. "And also he wants some of your hair, from your head and from down there."

"Oh, fucking excellent. Did he want Hakkai's too when he first got here, or am I just that special?"

"He did! He says you're both very interesting! He told me I can keep you for as long as I want. Though, I think one day he might take you away. Sometimes he likes to teach me about non-attachment. He really didn't like that I made Hakkai my friend, but he said I'll learn when he disappoints me. Like, when he steals all my best toys, for example."

"I'm not your toy. Stop calling me that."

"Well, it's not like you need a friend," said Kami dully, poking the marble floor with his toe. "You're like that boy I met when I was little. You don't need anybody. It's really cool. That's the right way to live."

"Freak," said Gojyo and jabbed a finger between his ribs. Kami giggled and squirmed, softly batting his hand away.

"I'm booored," he said, pressing against Gojyo's side. "Let's play."

"Let's not."

"Come on, we'll play something nice. Something you like."

"How 'bout we play me kicking your ass so you stop bothering me?"

"Like you could," Kami laughed and suddenly tackled him, catching him off-balance. They rolled together across the hard floor, Kami's hands clutching Gojyo's shoulders, small body straining against him. Gojyo tried to shove him away, be he held tight. Using force would make him lash out and attack for real, so Gojyo settled for wrestling him down and trying to hold him still. Kami stuck both hands down Gojyo's t-shirt and started to tickle him, howling joyfully. His fingers dug too hard into Gojyo's sides, worrying fresh bruises, but it was better than being strangled or perforated with beads. He flipped the kid onto his back and pinned him down, using his gentlest ground hold.

"Not fair!" laughed Kami, spluttering his hair that fanned all across his face in the tussle. "You're bigger!"

"Damn right I am," Gojyo wedged Kami's wrist under his knee and freed one hand to brush the stray golden strands away. The huge burn scar around Kami's eye felt rough and uneven under his fingers. Gojyo had never really looked at it before. He's had a lot of practice seeing the face under the scars in the mirror, and now he hardly noticed marks on other people.

"Where'd you get this?"

"I don't remember," said Kami. He stopped struggling now, relaxing slowly under his weight, turning his face into the strokes of Gojyo's fingers. He wasn't actually as young as he seemed when he was dancing around wackily and throwing temper tantrums. This close up Gojyo could tell they were about the same age. "You're so pretty."

"What are you doing?" asked Hakkai's voice from the stairs. Gojyo made to pull away, but Kami yanked his hands free and fisted them in Gojyo's vest, holding him there.

Hakkai really looked sulky, just as Kami'd said. He was staring at Gojyo's neck, at the bruises and scratches from their earlier fight. Gojyo shook his head to flip his hair forward and cover all that, and grinned up at him disarmingly:

"Nothing!"

"We're playing," Kami said in that light, sunny voice seasoned hookers use when they ask if you want company. He lifted his legs till the robes slid up to his waist, and wrapped his naked thighs around Gojyo's waist. "Want to join us?"

Hakkai shook his head, slipped his hands into his pockets and headed inside the castle, tiredly dragging his feet.

"Don't go!" Kami yelled, shoving Gojyo off and scrambling up onto his knees. "Come here, let's all play together! Aren't we friends?"

"No, of course we aren't friends, Kami-kun," said Hakkai quietly, not slowing down. "You only call me that because I make a lousy toy."

"Hakkai," Gojyo said, and now the man stopped, waiting, his shoulders tense and straight, but Gojyo had no idea what to say. If Hakkai was pissed off because of Kami's little trick – no, he wouldn't fall for something like that.

"Don't worry," Hakkai said at last. "I'll be around, in case something happens, though you seem to be doing just fine. I need some time alone."

"Fine," whispered Kami, staring at his retreating back and fingering the strings of beads slung around his shoulders. His lips were shaking, like he was about to cry. "It's not like I need you anyway. I don't need anybody. I should've killed you where I found you, really."

"Hey, hey," Gojyo caught his hands, guided them away from the beads and turned Kami around to face him, shaking him gently to distract him from the wrong train of thought. "So, are we playing or what? I want to play with the railroad. Let's go, you gotta show me how it works."

"I'm not in the mood."

"Come onnn! Shiny trains! We can load them with tin soldiers and play war. Or, train robbery!"

He tugged on Kami's wrists excitedly till the guy smiled and rose to his feet:

"Okay. Let him sulk and miss all the fun. That'll teach him."

¬*_*_*

Kami had every single toy Gojyo had wanted as a child, and many more he never knew existed. He kept imagining his seven-year-old self in this room, being allowed to rock on the wooden horse just like the one he'd ogled in the shop window for a year, and kick around striped balls so new and bouncy they made a ringing sound when they hit a wall. The little squirt Gojyo would wet himself from delight: armies of tin soldiers, little fire engines with working bells, drums and clowns, and a willing playmate to boot. He would be so, so happy. Now, of course, it was all just piles of gaudy junk and an unpredictable violent jerk he had to keep entertained and not homicidal.

Well, okay, the toy railroad was kinda fun.

He still couldn't tell for sure if Kami was actually an unhinged loon, or just a kid in a man's body who never had a chance to grow up. Sometimes, catching one of Kami's quick, dark glances thrown at him through lowered eyelashes, Gojyo thought that all those wacky antics were just a sick game designed specifically to freak him out. One minute the guy would be staging an elaborate tea party for his dollies, consumed with the task of setting the little table just right and introducing every porcelain socialite to Gojyo individually, and the next he'd be hurling tiny hand-painted china cups against the wall and decapitating his toy guests. Sometimes the sudden massacre would be the beginning of a hysterical fit, and sometimes it was just a part of the game. And whenever Kami would abandon the toys and fling himself at Gojyo, crawl into his lap and rub against him, giggling and purring, there was really no telling if this was just a tease for him or Hakkai, or actual need of the body, or if he wanted something else entirely, or why he thought Gojyo could give him that.

It would be so easy to just roll with it and fuck Kami into content placidity. Gojyo knew that would work. He still remembered how quickly Mom would calm down when Jien folded his arms around her and pulled her in the bedroom. How soon her shrieks would ebb and change into soft coos, and then deep happy moans, louder and louder as the bed springs creaked faster and faster. Creak, creak, creak. He could hear it all from his room. Sticking fingers in his ears didn't seem to help any, it was still there, happening. And he wanted to be happy for her, and proud of his brother for giving her this comfort and pleasure. And often he wanted to bang the back of his head against the wall in time with the sounds they were making, till the flaky plaster turned red like his filthy, freaky hair. Except he never did that, because he wasn't crazy or anything.

Hakkai hovered nearby, watching them play, edging closer whenever Kami got agitated. Gojyo gave up on trying to talk to him or even to catch his eyes, and concentrated on wearing Kami out. Tired, the kid got more affectionate, and stopped bristling at the questions, but every time he answered anything Gojyo was sorry he even asked.

"Sensei? He's amazing," murmured Kami, lounging on the floor with his head in Gojyo's lap, his fingers toying with Gojyo's belt buckle, worrying the hem of his t-shirt. "He's making something wonderful right now. It will catch people's souls when they die. You see, when his friend died, Sensei couldn't keep him, and he was very lonely. But I'm sure he'll get it finished soon. So when you die, I will keep you with me forever."

Gojyo was pretty sure Kami just made all that up as he went along, but there was something disturbing about his sweet, open smile, like he really believed it all.

"I will put you in one of my toys," Kami said, making a sweeping gesture around the room with his thin hand, indicating the piles of plushies, tin men and wooden dolls. "You can pick any one. Who do you want to be?"

Gojyo suppressed a shudder and pushed Kami off. The back of his blond head hit the stone floor with a dull thump, but Kami didn't even wince, just let out a high-pitched giggle.

"No, you're right, that's not good enough," he said. "I'll make a doll especially, to look just like you. It will be cute and cuddly, and it will have your pretty red hair. And the eyes."

He plucked two beads off the string circling his shoulders. Gojyo already knew that there was no actual string there, nothing but Kami's will holding it all together. Kami stretched out his arms, bringing the beads closer to Gojyo's face.

"I thought so. The colour match is perfect," he said.

"Stop that, Kami-kun," said Hakkai from the steps where he was perched. His voice was hoarse from the long silence, hands tense where they gripped his knees.

"Aw, Hakkai, are you feeling left out?" Kami asked, rolling over to face the man. "Don't worry, I plan on keeping you too. That way you and him will always be together. Wouldn't you like that?"

Hakkai's feet shifted on the steps, but before he could say anything Kami sprang up and twirled around happily.

"Company!" he yipped. "Can you feel it, guys? We have guests!"

He was out of the room before Gojyo could make a grab for him, in one swish of robes and golden hair. Hakkai didn't move when Kami brushed past him, just kept still, tightly hugging his legs, his shaggy hair tumbling down on his forehead in a tangles mess.

"No, no," moaned Gojyo, getting up. "Not that again. Hakkai!"

"I'm not going to participate in that anymore," said Hakkai dully.

"But it's still going to happen!"

Hakkai's eyes darted to Gojyo's face, finally, but it really wasn't a good time for that. The sound of Kami's light steps was fading in the distance - he was running off to torture some idiot stragglers to death.

Gojyo ran after him, chasing the echoing steps and the glimpses of his robes around the corners of the walkways. He was almost at the main stairs when Kami grabbed him, flung both arms around his chest and pushed him against the wall, into the shadows.

"Don't rush it," he whispered wetly into Gojyo's ear. "It's important to make a good entrance."

They could see the trespassers now – just the three of them, milling at the top of the stairs, tense and ready for an attack. The one in the middle, flanked protectively by the other two, had long blood-red hair, and the sight of it made Gojyo's heart skip a beat till he saw the guy's ears and markings. All three were youkai.

"…not quite what I was expecting," the tallest one was saying. "You sure it's his place?"

"Reasonably sure," answered the redhead. His hands were folded in front of his chest, palm to palm, and something invisible was moving and shaping between his fingers. Youkai magic. "We should be able to learn at least something about that human if we explore his estate. Technically we're intruding here, but there shouldn't be anyone…"

"Now this is just rude," giggled Kami, moving out into the open. "And you didn't even take your shoes off! I think you should be taught a lesson."

"We only want to talk," said the redhead quickly. The ball of magic in his hands tightened, small ripples of power leaking out, ready to be released. The tall one called forth a sword and stepped forward to shield the mage with his broad naked torso. The third youkai, a doe-eyed girl with breasts like sweet ripe melons, slipped a hand into the bag on her belt.

"Woah, wait!" yelled Gojyo, snapping right out of his quiet contemplation of the boobies, and rushed forward, still hoping to stop them before it got ugly. "Let's not…"

The youkai turned toward him, quickly changing their battle formation, and Kami made use of the distraction right away. Gojyo never saw him move – he just appeared behind the redhead, close enough to lean on his back, and ran his fingers down the edge of the youkai's long ear.

"This is so pretty," he said, fingering the guy's tacky dangly earring. "I'll take it."

The redhead jumped, startled, and the magic fizzled out from his grasp in a useless whiff of sparkly mist. The swordsman whirled around, gripped Kami's wrist before he could rip the earring out of youkai's earlobe, and drew back his sword hand.

"Don't kill him!" the redhead yelled and thrust his arm out to stop the blade, but he needn't have bothered. Kami'd already twisted out of the swordsman's hold and jumped away, and now was breathing into the back of the girl's neck, sniffing her hair.

"Pretty girl," he sighed happily. "I always wanted to play with a pretty girl."

The angry snarl she made was anything but pretty. She kicked backwards, aiming squarely for his groin, and called a spear.

"Yaone, don't, stay back!" screamed the swordsman. He still hovered by the redhead's side, poised ready for another attack, keeping one eye on Gojyo, but the girl was already across the room, chasing after laughing Kami. The blond hopped around and made an elaborate show of dodging her attacks, drawing her away from her allies. She was pretty good – she nearly grazed his cheek on the very first thrust – but it wasn't going to be enough. Gojyo was just about to make his move and hope the opening would present itself, when a dark shape darted past him and wedged between Kami and the girl.

"Hakkai!" gasped Kami, smiling from ear to ear. "I knew you'd come!"

Hakkai held the girl by her arms. His fingers, white from the strain, were digging deep into her flesh; he stared at her wide-eyed, shaking so hard he made the chains on her outfit jingle. The girl seemed frozen in shock.

"It's okay, you're safe," Hakkai said right into her face, leaning closer till their noses bumped together. He sounded like he couldn't breathe and was just barely forcing enough air through his throat to make sounds. "I won't let anyone harm you."

"Go," said the redhead and began chanting. The big guy changed to a two-handed grip and charged at Hakkai, going for certain kill. Gojyo knew this move – it was wicked hard to counter, but Jien had taught him a neat trick for it. He called the shakujou, moved closer to Hakkai, took a stance and fixed his eyes on the swordsman.

And then he couldn't breathe, and couldn't hold his weapon together anymore. The sword was coming down in a brutal arc designed to cleave him in half and maim Hakkai, and he couldn't move a muscle.

The first year after he left home and drifted around aimlessly, scarping by from one day to the next, he was still hoping to bump into Jien somewhere, though of course he didn't have a faintest clue as to where his brother might have been by then. But with every passing month it was harder and harder to conjure Jien's face in his mind. It was fading, no matter how Gojyo tried to cling to that memory, so he held on to the simple things he could remember. The colour of Jien's eyes, the exact shape of his markings, the lines of his jaw. Something he could use to recognise his brother by, even years later.

And now it turned out that all the effort was for nothing, because he hasn't forgotten a thing.

Of course, Jien was different now. He changed his hair, filled out nicely, wasn't hunching anymore, stood tall and proud, his strong torso exposed, skin smooth and barely scarred. He didn't look anything like that unwashed village boy with a crazy mom and a freak for a brother. Now he looked like a youkai nobility or something – healthy, glowing with power, beautiful.

His sword stopped a hair from Gojyo's face, and blinked out of existence.

"You," he said, and Gojyo wanted to fling himself at him, bury his face against Jien's broad chest and cry like a kid. Except he never cried as a kid, and it wasn't time to start. Behind his back Hakkai was still promising the poor girl that he won't let anyone touch her, never, never. Redhead was staring at them hard, ribbons of flame licking between his fingers; Kami hovered in the distance, and his smile was getting puzzled and uncertain.

"S'okay, I got this," Gojyo said and gently shook Hakkai by the shoulders. "Hey, buddy, let her go, you're freaking her out. Hakkai, listen to me. Let go."

Hakkai loosened his grip on a girl, made a weird sobbing sound and sagged backwards against Gojyo's chest. The girl pulled up straight and recovered her weapon. She still looked pale, though more pissed-off now than scared. Finger-shaped bruises on her arms were livid red, already darkening to purple.

"What are you doing?" Kami asked. "What game are we playing?"

"We're not playing," Hakkai said. His hand lingered over Gojyo's where it was curled around his shoulder, and then he pushed away and stepped toward Kami. "We're going to let them go."

Kami shook all over, going red-faced with rage, and let out a screeching, wordless howl. He swung his sceptre and let all the beads fly at once in a wide volley.

There was nowhere to hide, no time to think and too many people to protect. They were all going to get mowed doing, and then Kami would probably let the tiger finish it up – and then, before anyone had a chance to move, something happened.

A wall of fire rolled through the room, roaring like a living thing. Squinting against the heat, Gojyo could just about see something moving between the flames, something huge, one-eyed, with a maw full of brightly blazing teeth.

The beads scattered, thrown off-aim, and the fire died out at once. There was no smoke and no monster, only scorch marks on the marble.

Hakkai was lying on the edge of the charred strip, sprawled face-down on the blackened floor. For a moment Gojyo thought Hakkai got blasted all the way there, maybe fried to a crisp - but then he saw Kami squirming underneath the man, struggling against the ground hold. The beads rolled back toward their master, trailing thin lines of soot across the flagstones, and stopped dead in a wide circle around him. Hakkai was holding a qi shield around the two of them, with Kami trapped in and his beads locked outside, shuddering uselessly against the invisible barrier.

"Please, leave now," Hakkai said over Kami's agonised wails. The kid was thrashing so hard he'd dislocate his own shoulders, if Hakkai's grip wasn't so efficient. "He's harmless for the moment, and I'll make sure he doesn't pursue you. You don't need to kill him. And, please, take Gojyo with you. Take him to safety."

"Damn, what the hell is going on here?" Jien said. "Kou, do you want to interrogate them?"

"That won't be necessary. I believe we have what we came for," said the redhead, staring hard at the crimson mark on Kami's forehead. "We can leave."

"He's coming with us," Jien said and laid his heavy, calloused hand on Gojyo's shoulder. "Home, I mean. He's…"

"Of course, if you say so. You can explain later," said the redhead, easily, like it was perfectly normal for his friends – or bodyguards, or whoever they were - to drag home any number of random hanyos. The girl stood next to him again, in exactly the same position as when Gojyo first saw them, guarding the mage's side. She met Gojyo's eyes and gave him a polite, tight-lipped smile and a little bow. Not trusting him yet, but obviously prepared to treat him right, if Jien says so.

Clearly, there was no need to worry about his big brother anymore. He had a good thing going with those two, they had his back, they would look after him. Gojyo was kinda curious if Jien was boning either of them, or even both maybe. Jien was pulling him toward his friends, and Gojyo could just go with them, all the way to where they were shacked up, check out their home, down a few with his brother and catch up on everything that happened in the last eight years. They could be a family again, Jien would take care of him – not like Gojyo had anywhere else to go, really.

"I'll stay," he told Jien. "I can't ditch them - you can see they need looking after."

"No," said Jien and gripped him harder. "No way I'm leaving you with those nutjobs."

"Look, I know, they're wacky, but they have their moments. It'll be okay, seriously. I can help them."

"I'm sorry, I must say you're probably mistaken," said the girl. "That man – he's… He might be beyond help. And he wants you to leave. I don't think he trusts himself with you."

Gojyo chose to ignore her, allowed himself one farewell glance at the boobies and turned back to Jien:

"Look, I'm not a kid anymore. I got this. It will all work out this time, nobody will die or anything – I want to do this. Just go, I'm good."

Jien stared at him for an endless moment, with that weird pained look he used to get sometimes when Gojyo would gather wildflowers for mom or try to cook her favourite meal. Then he nodded and stepped back, closer to his redhead and the girl. The man twirled his earring, and all three disappeared in one small pulse of youkai magic.

It took him a moment to blink through all the mist in his eyes and start breathing normally again. When he turned around, Kami wasn't struggling anymore. Hakkai had let him go, but Kami stayed on the floor, sobbing like a little kid whose only toy was broken by bullies. The beads lay around him, forgotten.

"Not fair," he moaned. "So not fair. That guy, he had so much... Why don't I have anything?"

"You have us," said Hakkai, not even trying for anything but patronising. In Kami's place Gojyo would want to slug him, but the kid only glared weakly through the hair plastered to his wet face.

"That's just not true," he muttered.

"Maybe it can be," Gojyo said. "I don't know. We could try."

Kami stropped sobbing and looked up at him, solemn and hopeful for a moment, but then more tears welled up in his bloodshot eyes and he flopped back, crying with renewed anguish.

"Come on, up we go," Hakkai said and easily hoisted Kami to his feet. "Let's get you to bed."

Kami went without protest, let them steer him into the closest bedroom and wrap him in blankets, but wouldn't stop sobbing till Hakkai got into bed with him and pressed against his back, cuddling him and whispering some soothing babytalk nonsense into his ear. Then Kami grabbed Gojyo's arm and tugged till all three of them ended up in one messy tangle, barely balanced on too-narrow mattress.

It didn't suck, actually, even with Kami gripping his forearm too tightly and getting tears and snot in his hair. Hakkai had an arm around them both, and in the dim of the bedroom Gojyo could see the green glint in his eyes, feel the warm of his thigh where it pressed against his. Kami's heart was still rapping too fast against Gojyo's ribs, but it was slowing down, and his breathing was getting deep and calm. Maybe they could even sleep like this. Gojyo suddenly felt very, very tired, and he definitely wasn't up to sleeping alone tonight.

"Let's all leave tomorrow," he said and immediately felt Kami stiffen against him and his heartbeat pick up the pace again.

"We can't," Kami mumbled into his shoulder.

"Of course we can."

"No. We can't. Where would we even go?"

"I dunno, anywhere. We could just travel. See the world, just go where we please every day. We could go as far as frigging India if we want. We'll make some money on the way – hey, you could put on a whole show with your magic. Brats love shit like that, bet you'd be popular."

"Really?"

"Yeah, everyone will want to play with you! And Hakkai here could heal sick people in every place we come across, there's good money to be had there too. And I would clean everyone at poker, and then to the next town…"

"And if we tire of travel one day, we can settle down," Hakkai chimed in, and this time he actually sounded like he meant it. Enough to fool Gojyo, anyway.

"Yeah! We'd get us a house, and a steady job, you could, um… "

"I could teach. I am qualified."

"See? Awesome! And Kami could - "

"I have a magic show," Kami reminded him sleepily and snuggled tighter against him.

"Right, yeah, and I could – heh, I'll just stick to cleaning everyone at poker I guess."

"You and Kami could work for the law," Hakkai said. "Helping the lost, protecting the innocent. You could do a lot of good with your abilities."

Kami made a content little sound that could actually be snoring, and Gojyo let his heavy eyelids slide shut. He still felt Hakkai's fingertips softly stroking his shoulder as he fell asleep.

He woke up about half the way when Kami shifted in his arms, slid off the bed and shuffled out of the room. Hakkai immediately moved into the vacated warm space and wound both his arms around Gojyo's shoulders.

"Where'd he…" Gojyo mumbled as he worked his hands under Hakkai's clothes.

"Bathroom, probably," Hakkai said, and kissed him, slowly and easily, like they did that every day, waking up in the same bed together. Gojyo grabbed his bony hips and dragged him closer, till he could rock his hard-on against Hakkai's stomach, and then against the answering hardness there. Hakkai sighed and arched against him, treading his fingers through Gojyo's hair.

"Who was that man?" Hakkai asked suddenly against his lips and rolled on top of Gojyo, heavy and warm and hard, and talking was really the last thing Gojyo wanted to be doing right now.

"My brother," he said reluctantly.

"I see. You should have gone with him."

"Yeah, well," Gojyo muttered and kissed him harder, nuzzled at his neck, imagining what Hakkai must look like without his limiters. Would his marking be anything like Jien's or…

And then Hakkai's wandering hands found his zipper and distracted him completely. Gojyo pushed into Hakkai's warm fist, wondering if Kami was about to return and get an eyeful. That was so silly, making out like this, like parents when a child leaves the room, and that thought made him giggle happily even as he was struggling to undo Hakkai's pants.

"Gojyo, oh, Gojyo," Hakkai panted into his hair. "Gojyo, you know this can't end well."

"I dunno anything like that."

"No, you see…"

A piercing scream startled them both, and cut off on a pained whine even before they jumped out of bed. The floor shuddered under their feet, as if the castle itself was as shaken up as they felt.

"Is it him?" asked Gojyo as they broke into a run down the dark corridor, adjusting their clothes. He couldn't even tell if that hideous sound was Kami's voice. Hakkai nodded and sped up, his teeth clenched and jaw set grimly, like he had been expecting something nasty to happen.

Kami was in his toy room, alone, sprawled on the floor. The stained glass windows painted the room in bizarre shades, bisecting and obscuring the lines of his body, but Gojyo didn't really need to look to know what he'd see. The room reeked of fresh blood, and there was too much of it. Kami's lips were blue and his face was very white, and he was bleeding everywhere – he must have been slashed at least a dozen of times, deeply and brutally. Gojyo knelt by his side, trying to breathe through his mouth, and ripped a strip of cloth off Kami's priestly robe to at least bind the gaping cuts closed. That was no use, they were too late. Not even youkai magic would help it now. But maybe they could at least find whoever did this.

"Who was it? Where'd they go?" he asked.

"Sensei said you broke me," Kami said slowly, with a dumb, queasy smile, barely moving his lips. His teeth were stained red, and Gojyo could hear wet gurgling sounds as he spoke. "He doesn't need me anymore. It's over."

The floor shook again, harder; there was a sound of mortar and stones grinding together – like a moan of a giant. Several sections of coloured glass cracked and burst inside the room, peppering their hair with blunt shards.

"No, no," Hakkai pressed both palms to Kami's torn chest, and for the moment a surge of ozone almost overpowered the thick stench of blood as he poured qi into Kami's wounds. "You're not going to die. You deserve a chance at redemption. We will try to start over, together, we can become human again, we will…"

Another jolt cut him off and almost threw him down on his face. A thin stream of dust poured down on them from the ceiling, mingling with Kami's blood; Gojyo braced on hands and knees over his body to shield him a little, but he could see cracks running fast up the stone walls, widening by the second. The whole damn castle was going to crumble on top of them; he wasn't sure what set it off, but they definitely needed to be elsewhere. Kami would bleed out in seconds if they tried to carry him, but then again, he would only have minutes longer if they didn't move him at all…

Kami seemed to have fainted, but he stirred again when they started to lift him up and pushed at their hands, making more blood spurt from his wounds.

"I want to stay here," he wheezed. "You have to go. I need you to go now. You have to save him."

Gojyo let go of him and grabbed Hakkai's hand. He expected struggle, but judging by the way Hakkai squeezed his fingers and pulled him to the exit, he must have thought Kami wasn't talking to Gojyo.

They ran and ran, not talking, listening to the sounds of walls creaking, crashing and folding in on themselves. As they negotiated one of the endless staircases, jumping over the steps that sagged under their feet like a swamp path, the ceiling started to cave in over them. Hakkai raised a qi shield over them, and Gojyo let him lean on his shoulder and steered them both to the main exit, watching as huge boulders rained down, crashed into nothing a foot above their heads and bounced off, smashing holes in the marble floor.

He could already see the glow of daylight in the distance when the shield burst and Hakkai sagged listlessly over him. Gojyo hoisted him higher and ran, dodging the falling stones, leaping heavily over the chasms that opened under his feet as the floor started to break apart. The dust was rising up and getting thicker as the castle ground itself into ruins. He ran almost blindly now, trying not to breathe in, afraid to choke. His every muscle burned and his lungs screamed for air, but he wouldn't slow down, because this time - he knew - he had a real shot. He could save this guy. He could save him.

*-*-*

"Hey, Mister, are you alive?"

Hakkai rolled his head to the side and tried to cough out all the dust clogging his throat. When he looked up, he saw them both at once. They were bending over him, wearing identical concerned frowns. For a moment he suspected concussion-induced double-vision, but then his eyes finally focused and he saw that they didn't look alike at all.

"Gojyo," he rasped. "Gojyo?"

"Not the…" started the older one, the handsome slender man dressed in priest robes. He had a crimson mark on his forehead, and looking at it made Hakkai's bruised chest hurt more.

His young companion let out a happy whooping cry and darted around the wreckage:

"Gojyo! Gojyo! Where are you hiding?"

"Shut the fuck up, I've a headache from hell," groaned Gojyo's voice nearby, and Hakkai began to laugh, not caring if he sounded hysterical or insane, if he was scaring the boy or distressing the priest. He kept laughing until his eyes watered and his vision blurred and all he could see was the bright gold of the priest's hair.

Gojyo moved closer, looking barely scratched, radiating heat and comfort, and draped himself over the priest's shoulder with the disconcerting air of familiarity.

"Hmm, if I knew you missed me that much, I woulda dropped by more often. Hey, Hakkai, meet Sanzo the baldy and his pet monkey Goku! Owww, don't hit me, assholes, I'm all injured!"

"We were in the neighbourhood and sensed something," said the priest, still stone-faced, carefully tucking a large paper fan back inside his sleeve. "It has stopped now, whatever it was."

"Yeah, Sanzo's vest went all weird for a moment!" nodded Goku, gesturing wildly to illustrate something cryptic.

"It's not a… oh, why do I bother," sighed Sanzo. "What the fuck are you doing here, anyway?"

Gojyo opened his mouth to explain, but Hakkai struggled onto his feet and cut him off, suddenly urgent.

"Sanzo-sama, perhaps you could help me. My name is Cho Gonou. I…" his lips began to shake, and he forced a smile, trying to regain control.

"I know who you are," nodded Sanzo, barely surprised. "I've wasted months looking for you in all kinds of shitty god-forsaken places. Believe me when I tell you it doesn't make me want to jump over myself to help you."

"Excellent," he said, finally feeling free after so long, and dizzy with the rush it gave him. "Then we both have found what we were looking for."

"Oh yeah?" the priest smirked. His eyes were unsettlingly clever and knowing. "I wouldn't stake much hope on the easy way out."

"Hey, hey, what are you talking about?" demanded Gojyo. He'd already gotten into a wrestling match with Goku, who twisted in his hold at the pause and echoed the question, bouncing with curiosity.

Hakkai smiled at them widely and blandly, dismissing the question, admiring the way Gojyo's hair looked with the sunlight bouncing off it: a stream of bright, brilliant shades of red. He didn't want an easy way out, not any more. He wouldn't need anyone's help to take it. What he sought now was something that was probably impossible: strength to endure the unbearable, faith beyond reason. A miracle. A second chance.

The boy grabbed his hand and looked up at him, wide-eyed and friendly:

"Are you going to travel with us? It will be so cool! We can play mah-jong – Sanzo taught me, but he says I suck and it needs four players and now we could, or we could just play poker, Gojyo taught me but I never win because he's a shark - not a real shark, he's actually a kappa, but not really…"

It was all too strange. The charmed hell he's been living in for the last eternity folded like a house of cards, crumbled like a dry cookie. The boy priest was dead, and they stood on the ruins of his short and bloody life with a priest, and a boy. Hakkai smiled wider, fighting a spasm in his throat. His cheeks were beginning to cramp. Gojyo's eyes were worried and insistently seeking his, but he looked away, too exposed out in the open, in the light. Not ready yet, no certainty of ever being ready, but still, Gojyo's warmth felt so good beside him, and the silence stretched like a line between them was solid and alive, keeping him afloat.

As they headed off after the priest he considered the possibility of hope. He didn't deserve mercy. But then, he had never deserved her love, yet he was given it. He didn't deserve to be saved, didn't deserve friendship, trust or affection, but apparently…

He smiled past the pain in his tightly clenched jaw, amused at his own foolishness. Only in fairytales the evil was always banished and the good was always rewarded. Here, in the real world, anything was possible: a beautiful princess could be devoured by monsters, and a blood-soaked demon could be loved by the kindest heart of them all – no reason, no morals, no explanation. He caught up to Gojyo, falling into step with him, and let his friend lead him away from the rubble.

  
The end


End file.
